In my case, it wasn’t a stuffed animal or a toy worn thin by time.
It was something I received shortly after birth — my name.
It’s still with me.
And I’m deeply grateful for it, because even as I change, my name lets me redefine myself from different angles — without ever disappearing. I can use it in different forms, different meanings. All of them feel somehow right for me.
Estonian allows this kind of play. Letters shift places, meanings rearrange themselves, but everything remains connected. The same name, many meanings.
A small Estonian language lesson — all of the following use the exact same letters
A A A E L M R S T
as my name:
- tea armsat — cherish the dear one
- arst maale — the doctor goes to the countryside
- ma ratastel — I am on wheels
- maalt reas — lined up from the countryside
- raam laest — a frame from the ceiling
- armast eal — love, always
- armsat ela — live tenderly
- lae armsat — charge what is dear
- ae armsalt — urge gently
- ratas emal — mother has a bicycle
- lame staar — a flat star
- male staar — a chess star
- ealt armas — dear by nature — and dear by age
I’ll spare you the explanations of how each one connects to a part of my life — but trust me, they all do. Only the meaning of “raam laest” in my life is currently unknown to me.
When it comes to English, I found only one anagram that truly makes sense — and that I can genuinely relate to:
a mare salt
I accept it, too.
Exploring the Unexpected 